All we can
by Chelsea Dupree
Summary: Edward,an estranged fashion designer finds himself in the arms of fashion once again.Bella, a talented photographer is always looking for a muse.When passion takes a dangerous turn,logic is brought to an intangible point where principles are defied.ExB


Prologue

She was beautiful. Through the glass of the over sized window, the lights of the Eiffel Tower were lingering graciously on the smooth skin of her long and slender legs.

In the late hours of the night with only the full moon as her witness, Isabella Swan was completely awake, propping the weight of her head on one palm, studying with curious eyes the stature of the person beside her. Careful not to wake her lover, Isabella began exploring the delicate exposed skin with her finger leaving behind a trace of her love and adoration.

The mysterious lover was an amazing creature and a sight to keep in mind. The right part of her long, elongated neck was only covered with a cherry blossom love bite from earlier that night, her long arms both nestled under the pillow covered with strawberry blond curls, messy diffused on the material.

As Isabella relished her eyes with the sight of her partner's breasts rising and falling in rhythm with her breathing, right underneath the skin of the half-exposed delicate breast, Isabella saw a little brownish freckle rising, the only mark shadowing the perfect texture. Her beloved must have been dreaming, because her light, thin eyebrows were arching involuntarily, her bridge straight nose was moving in a strangely cute manner and her full, cherry red, delectable lips were half-opened curved into a small smile.

_Maybe she is dreaming about me_, Isabella thought involuntarily caressing the blonds check. That though only brought her more repulsion and heart ache towards her own self thinking about her future actions.

Their affair started one summer in Paris. What looked like pure attraction and longing slowly built into a benefit relationship of sex calls and weekly rendezvous in a room, secluded from the eyes of the others, at a second floor of an old house. As a photographer, Isabella found her muse; as a model aspiring for attention, the blond found her lover. They were a perfect match, living a bohemian life spiced with lust, endless dirty dances, emotions captured on the camera and carnal sex.

Time passed, and along with it the attraction from Isabella's heart. What started like an unstoppable fire has now been reduced to a smooth glow barely maintained with false hope and poor pretenses. Like the selfish person she was, Isabella only cared about her well being. She figured her lover will quickly find a more adequate replacement, a person willing to sacrifice her life and time to build a strong relationship, based on something else than just fucking.

She would leave in the dull hours of the morning erasing all traced of their peculiar relationship.

Ending her trail of thoughts Isabella saw her lover's eye lids slowly open revealing the most surprising shade of ice baby-blue eyes. Her lips slowly parted and asked with sleepy, yet astonishing French accent:

"Amour, what are you doing?"

"Just staring at your perfect body, cherie. Tu êst un bijoux qui brille à la lumière de Paris. "

A faint blush appeared on Tanya's cheek spreading uniformly toward the valley of her breasts.

"Je t'adore, mon amour. Now come here. I need you."

Bella didn't wait another second. She collapsed in her lover's arms, surrending to the fire for one last time.

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It seemed to be a restless night. The frenzy from their love making had slowly subsided leaving the soft satin sheets take the warmth from their bodies. Still, only one of the lovers fell in the abyss of dreams.

Tanya was not feeling well. The unexpected news concerning a presumptuous pregnancy had scared her without recognition, shattering all her future plans. As hard as she thought trying to find different ways to salve the problem, the result was in vain. Going through different scenarios and premises the conclusion was still the same: she wasn't prepared to become a mother. The constant ignorance and silent treatment she received from her parents during childhood was a hidden reminder of her well build insecurities that were clouding her better judgment.

_Maybe amore will understand…_She thought. But deep inside she knew better than anyone that was a blasphemy. Bella will never accept having a bastard as a child, the bearing of an unfaithful night, when madness struck, leaving Tanya to commit the ultimate sin, cheating, in the arms of another man.

In this moment, Tanya was faced with a difficult decision: she could either return to Isabella's loving embrace hoping all would be fine, or she could just leave and take care of the situation she created.

With one last glace to her lover's suave sleeping face, the decision was made. She slowly got dressed, took her bag and headed to the door. Thus, in the end, the muse lost the battle of love in detriment to her insecurities and awful circumstances.

Through the small crack of the door, a faint whisper felt from Tanya's red lips:

"See you soon."

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In absolute contradiction with the events hosted by the foregoing night, a beautiful day was rising ahead with a lazy sun blinding the sky.

Isabella awoke with a feeling of uneasiness enveloping her body. She slowly opened her eyes hoping to find her lover still sleeping. Instead, beside her the empty sheets were wrinkled, as if somebody fought to escape from their presence.

A mix of confusion and fear set over her features. If Tanya was already up, there was no way she could leave now without causing a major scene, abandoning her plans for the moment.

"Shit!" Isabella hissed. She refused to add more drama to this unfaithful scenario and direct the dénouement of this already too damaged relationship transforming it into a grotesque image.

Amidst the continuous contradictions in her head, Isabella failed to notice the resonant silence surrounding the place. If Tanya was around, then she had the qualities of a cat, making noiseless steps on her way.

Isabella rose from the sheets starting to look for her lover. If the plans of escape were ruined, that didn't mean the entire morning should be.

She looked around until one insignificant detail caught her attention. On the mirror dresser right next to a photograph of both her and Tanya a rich trail of red lipstick was left.

Step by step her astonishment was rising considerably, as the distance between her and the mirror was reducing. It simply read:

_Je regrette. _

Isabella couldn't believe her eyes. She quickly ran to her nightstand and dialed Tanya number, only to hear the melodic voice of her lover telling her to try again later. The phone slipped from her hand landing on the satin sheets of the bed, where Bella observed that no clothes other than hers were resting on the chair.

It was over.

Unsure in which manner to react, a forced, erratic laugh escaped her lips piercing the silenced air. Their supposed _love _resulted to be only a cheap show of faux affection, where the main characters couldn't wait to leave the stage and implicitly one another.

"All this time…wasted…lost", she whimpered to herself facing the mirror once again.

Lost like the empty feeling in Isabella's poor heart.

Without thinking she lifted her right fist and poured all the anger she felt into the force of a swing that collided with the glass of the mirror shattering it into a million small pieces.

Through the reflection of the broken glass the beauty of the unloved brunette was captured as a mask of defeat and irony.

A single tear slipped down Isabella's cheek landing on the photograph buried under the cemetery of glass.

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**Translations:**

"Tu êst un bijoux qui brille à la lumière de Paris." - You are a jewel that shines in the light of Paris.

"Je t'adore, mon amour" - I adore you, my love.

_"Je regrette." - I regret._

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**A/N**: Sadly, I don't own Twilight because Madame Meyer already is, thought I do own some of her books.

The names of the characters are not mine, but the idea used and the stereotypes created are. Alike a puppet master I toy with the invisible strings attached to them in order to define a concept.

I must thank my beta, Amwen, who I am in debt for the rest of my existence for every single minute she spends with me and my writings. Also, check her blog where you can find some of the most dramatic and lovely poems.

http:/weary-ramblings(.)blogspot(.)com/

_Chelsea_ Dùprèe.


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